


It's All Fine

by Obviously_Sherlocked_Anya



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cute, It's So Stupid, It's Still Cute, Lots of Cursing, M/M, Post-Reichenbach, Reunions, Sherlock's Thinking A Lot, whatever, written pre-S3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-12 21:44:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1201702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Obviously_Sherlocked_Anya/pseuds/Obviously_Sherlocked_Anya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John accidently find each other before Sherlock's intended reunion, and Sherlock improvises from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's All Fine

**Author's Note:**

> So, I wrote this on December 1, 2013, therefore, this is all pre-S3 junk. I botched it, and just swore, rather than using figurative language. It's terrible, but I like it. Enjoy yourselves, babes. <3 xx

Sherlock wet his lips, his thin frame trembling with fear.

 

John.

 

John was there. Right there. Right in front of him. He was walking. Walking by. Walking by Sherlock. No. Wait. He hadn’t seen the dead, yet not, man. Sherlock wanted nothing more than to call, plead, beg, scream, anything to get John’s attention.

 

He couldn’t.

 

“I’m such a fucking coward...” he kicked a small pebble by his foot, huffing.

 

John stopped. He stopped. Shit. Not good. Oh God, this was bad. This was very bad. He turned. Towards Sherlock. John turned towards Sherlock. He didn’t know he was turning towards Sherlock. Or did he? God, no one know. Sherlock felt his heart hammering in his chest, the feeling sickening beside his turning stomach, flipped over in fear.

 

“You.”

 

John. John’s voice. Calling out to him. Sherlock. Yes. That was about right, wasn’t it? Wait. No. Not right. Not good. Mycroft had warned Sherlock not to come here. Yet, here he was. John was moving; he was walking back. Back to Sherlock. Oh God. He’s noticed. He knows. He knows it’s Sherlock. This is so very _not good_.

 

“Sherlock.”

 

“John.” Fuck. Shit. Bad. Oh, that wasn’t right. He wasn’t supposed to say anything. He was supposed to shrug it off, and run. Not announce his fucking presence to his beloved. Great. Nice fucking job there.

 

“Sherlock. Oh God, it’s you. It’s really you.” Sherlock tensed, bracing for a hit that never came. He waited. Nothing. He opened his eyes, blinking, evidently confused. John looked up at him with his ever-so-pretty eyes. They’ve faded. Dulled from the Fall. Yet still, they held their beautiful cerulean color. Sherlock tore himself away from John’s eyes, finding his nose and cheeks next. Thinner. Paler. Evidence of covered dark circles obvious. He hadn’t been eating or sleeping. Wonderful choice on John’s part. Out of all Sherlock’s habits to pick up, he decided on those. Lips last. Thin, as they always were. Different. Ah. John gnawing at them. Nervously. Sherlock, to say the least, is rendered speechless. Of all people, John shouldn’t be the one scared.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

Both at once? Sherlock was apologizing for being dead for three years, but not dead, just dead to everyone who actually cared. John had done nothing wrong, why on earth would he be—

 

Oh.

 

 _Oh_.

 

John was hugging him. Tight. He stood on his tiptoes, burying his cold nose deep into the curve of Sherlock’s neck, breathing in his ethereal, sweet, so-very alive, scent. His arms were draped over Sherlock’s shoulders, pulling him closer. Yes, the angle was more than awkward. Jesus, it was uncomfortable as hell, but if that’s what it took to feel Sherlock’s body against his, breathing, beating, living against his, it was all worth it.

 

“You okay?” he murmured pathetically into Sherlock’s pale skin, so warm against his lips.

 

“Yeah. Fine. You?”

 

“Fine. Definitely fine, you prick. You bloody bastard, leaving me alone like that. I should hit you for being such a prat.”

 

“You wouldn’t have me any other way.”

 

“Of course not. You’re Sherlock Holmes; the most brilliant, stubborn, pouty-faced consulting detective the world has ever seen.”

 

“The only one.”

 

“Right.”

 

“Is this...okay? Me. Here. With you. After being dead. Is it?”

 

“Yes, of course it is. It’s fine. It’s all fine.”

 

“It’s all fine.”

 

And that’s where their ridiculous excuse of a reunion ended. With John shutting up his idiotic detective with a kiss. A kiss that meant so much more than it showed. A kiss filled with love, regret, acceptance, forgiveness, and God knows what else. The were broken. Of course they were. Sherlock had ruined them both. They could fix it, though. It would take time. But, they’ll figure it out. They always do.

 

It’s fine.

 

**It’s all fine.**


End file.
